Spiraling Descent Into Darkness
by wicked-angel-413
Summary: A night in the life of Buffy and Spike's relationship in season 6. Just what does go on in that slayer's mind? And Spike's for that matter?
1. Spiraling Descent Into Darkness

**A/N:** So… this is odd… But I'm sitting here, listening to me music on shuffle… And some Britney Spears pops up… So it got me thinking…. And this was the result.  
**Disclaimer:** I own neither the characters nor the song. Characters are property of Joss or Mutant Enemy, or generally just someone that isn't me. And the song is "Toxic" by Britney Spears.  
**Rating:** R, for a tiny bit of language and descriptions that I would never expose children to. ; )  
**Summary:** A night in Buffy's life with Spike. Set sometime in season 6, once Buffy and Spike have started sleeping together, but before anything else big really happens, I guess. No other particular time setting than that. This just kind of popped into my head and developed as I went along.

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"**Spiraling Descent Into Darkness"**

Buffy felt like the world was spinning around her. But that had become a normal feeling for her lately. Ever since her friends had… Well, it had become normal. The world just kept spinning at dizzying proportions that refused to release its hold over her. Instead the spinning just continued to pull her further and further into the void, down the tumultuous spiral that her life was becoming. The pain was overwhelming. And her friends only made it worse. She know they meant well, but having to constantly pretend that things were alright was wearing her down more and more each passing day. The only thing that seemed to make any kind of sense since her return was Spike. And she was worried she was ruining that. But she just couldn't help herself…

_Baby, can't you see  
__I'm calling  
__A guy like you  
__Should wear a warning  
__It's dangerous  
__I'm fallin'_

He was like a drug. It hadn't started out this way. But as her life seemed to close in on her, she let other things close in on her a well. She let the one stable part of her life left turn into… something. She wasn't sure what. The relationship she had with Spike seemed to be some kind of demon, like those she faced every night of her life, that was roaring its ugly head up every time she saw Spike now. Except this demon was different. Because she had no idea how to defeat it when it came from inside of herself rather than from the outside world.

_There's no escape  
__I can't wait  
__I need a hit  
__Baby, give me it  
__You're dangerous  
__I'm lovin' it_

Thoughts continued to race through her mind as Buffy unconsciously made her way to Spike's crypt. She didn't even bother to act surprised when she stopped only to realize she was standing in front of the door. With a sigh, she opened it and entered. She looked around, trying to find Spike. She couldn't sense his presence anywhere in the small building. Hesitantly, she took a step toward the ladder to the lower level. She wondered if he was sleeping. Just as she crept over to the edge of the opening, the door scraped open behind her, causing her to jump slightly as she spun around to face the intruder, only to find…. Spike. Of course.

_Too high  
__Can't come down  
__Losing my head  
__Spinning 'round and 'round  
__Do you feel me now_

It was his home after all. He cocked his head to the side as he shut the door behind him.

"Looking for me, slayer?" he smirked as he set a plastic bag down on the ground.

Buffy just stared at him, unmoving, unblinking. She could have passed for being just as dead as him if not for the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

Spike looked at her warily. "You alright, pet?" he asked as he took a step towards her. "Seem a little off…" his mind seemed to drift away as he reached her. She let her eyes travel up his chest to his eyes, but upon seeing the curious worry, the love that they held, she quickly lowered them. She didn't want him to see the haunted and empty look in her eyes. Though she knew he had seen it countless times before and hadn't missed it now. Instead, she let her eyes rest on his lips. Tentatively, she stood on her tiptoes, raising her arms to let them snake around his neck as she pressed her lips to his. Softly at first, but quickly becoming more demanding, more aggressive. He wrapped his arms around her waist and responded in kind.

_With a taste of your lips  
__I'm on a ride  
__You're toxic I'm slipping under  
__With a taste of a poison paradise  
__I'm addicted to you  
__Don't you know that you're toxic  
__And I love what you do  
__Don't you know that you're toxic_

They moved the step or two back to the ladder and separated only to descend, attacking one another with a ferocity that would have frightened the gods as soon as their feet hit the ground. A shirt ripped. The sound of a zipper sliding open sliced through the air. Soon clothes and newly formed rags littered the ground. The only sounds left to be heard were groans, grunts, and growls with an occasional scream as the two supernatural beings slammed their bodies together over and over again with amazing force.

_It's getting late  
__To give you up  
__I took a sip  
__From my devil's cup  
__Slowly  
__It's taking over me_

Buffy knew that she should return home. And not just for now, but permanently. But she didn't think she could do that, didn't think she could leave Spike behind her even if she wanted to. He had become a spiral all his own, apart from her already crazed world outside of his crypt. But here… At least here nothing seemed to matter. No longer did the worries of the Doublemeat, of slaying, of taking care of Dawn, of her friends, of _life_ press down upon her, threatening to smother her and drain the life from her once more. Not that she was entirely sure she'd mind…

_Too high  
__Can't come down  
__It's in the air  
__And it's all around  
__Can you feel me now_

As she fell back into Spike's embrace, she began to nip his neck and feel his hands trail down her body once more. And she decided she never wanted to leave. They may have created some demented, violent world together, but it was a world all their own. Where neither of them had anything to do but please themselves and each other. And they did. They did those two things very well. Vaguely, a thought floated across Buffy's mind as Spike bit into her thigh and her hands twisted into the sheets beneath her: if Spike were to turn her, would they be able to sustain themselves on each other's blood for the rest of time? All thought left her however as she let out a piercing scream.

_With a taste of your lips  
__I'm on a ride  
__You're toxic I'm slipping under  
__With a taste of a poison paradise  
__I'm addicted to you  
__Don't you know that you're toxic  
__And I love what you do  
__Don't you know that you're toxi_c

As she regained some sense of reality, her thoughts returned. She knew she shouldn't think such things, that thoughts like that were wrong on so many levels she didn't even want to consider it. She knew Spike was bad for her, knew what she was doing was terrible, knew that it was darkening her entire being and dragging her down to a pit of darkness that called to her like a siren. But as that darkness crept over her, she tossed those thoughts, possibly the only rational thoughts she had left, aside.

_Don't you know that you're toxi_c

She let herself succumb to the feelings Spike elicited from her. Spike, the undead vampire, the evil and soulless creature, who was the only one who could make her feel alive. And he began to prove that to her once more with another groan. The slight sheen of sweat that now covered her body glistened in the candlelit room.

_With a taste of your lips  
__I'm on a ride  
__You're toxic I'm slipping under  
__With a taste of a poison paradise  
__I'm addicted to you  
__Don't you know that you're toxic_

Sometimes, she considered going back to how things had been with Spike when she'd first returned. Not that she intended to stop doing the things they did now, but she considered talking again. Getting drunk and freeing kittens that he'd won. But that thought frightened her. Because then this may seem like a real relationship, not just fucking. And while both ends may be nice, she didn't want to risk having to let someone in, truly having to let someone in. And this served just as well anyway. True, she wasn't working her problems out, but ignoring them and making them disappear for a few, or several, hours could work just as well.

_With a taste of your lips  
__I'm on a ride  
__You're toxic I'm slipping under  
__With a taste of a poison paradise  
__I'm addicted to you  
__Don't you know that you're toxic_

The candles had long since burnt out. Buffy didn't know when, but at some point during the night both she and Spike had become to spent to go on any longer and had passed out. She rolled him off of her, feeling the loss like a stab into her soul in more ways than one. It was as though he had become her security blanket, and she was almost afraid to do anything without him. With a silent sigh, she got up from the bed to light and candle and then began to find her clothes. She didn't even bat an eyelash when she saw her shredded shirt. Instead she found Spike's, only to find it equally as tattered as her own. With a roll of her eyes, she threw it down and searched for his red button-up instead. She felt a mild surprise as she slipped it on and realized it was silk. But instead of pondering over that fact or wondering why she'd never noticed before, she pulled on her boots and quickly ascended the ladder before leaving the crypt as quietly as she could. Blinking her eyes even in the faint glow of the pre-dawn light, she looked at herself. She felt assured that she would rouse no suspicion for the time being as the long sleeves and jeans covered any bruises and bite marks she had gained the past night. She wondered how Spike looked. She had noticed the long scratches down his back as she'd dressed as well as a few bite marks of his own. Chewing her lip softly, she attempted to empty her mind and hurry home to sneak in her window before anyone else awoke.

_Intoxicate me now  
__With your lovin' now  
__I think I'm ready now  
__I think I'm ready now  
__Intoxicate me now  
__With your lovin' now  
__I think I'm ready now_

Spike lay staring at the ceiling as he felt the Slayer's presence fade away as she walked off through the cemetery, thinking of all the shirts he'd lost to that girl. It was exactly why he'd been shopping before she came over. His thoughts soon turned elsewhere though.

She hadn't even said a word tonight. He wondered if things were going too far, but as sleep began to pull him into its deep abyss, he decided he'd care later. Maybe when he grew some balls and stopped being love's bitch long enough to put an end to this or try to make this at least a healthy relationship, if you could even call it a relationship. As if that would ever happen though…

--END--

**

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A/N:** Turned out much darker than I anticipated, but not sure what else I really expected from this kind of fic. So please, tell me what you think! I'd love to know. Also, I'm thinking I'll do a companion piece from Spike's POV during the night once I find the right song. No guarantees, though! Yet I do have a couple songs in mind… ; ) 


	2. Tomorrow

**A/N: **Finally got around to writing this. Companion piece to the prior chapter. Spike's POV here, just so we can see his side of it, too. Hope I kept the events together alright here. More thought and less action because of that, I believe.  
**Disclaimer:** I own neither the characters nor the song. Characters are property of Joss or Mutant Enemy, or generally just someone that isn't me. And the song is "Outside" by Staind.  
**Rating:** R, just this side of NC-17 I hope, for descriptions that I would never expose children to. ;-)  
**Summary:** A night in Spike's life with Buffy. Set sometime in season 6, once Buffy and Spike have started sleeping together, but before anything else big really happens, I guess. No other particular time setting than that.

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"**Tomorrow"**

Spike walked down the empty street, trying to empty his mind. He wasn't very successful in his efforts though. There were too many things happening, too many things that just couldn't be right for him to stop thinking about them, no matter how much he wanted to. His brain just didn't work like that. Buffy's return to life was… complicated. He knew by now that everything relating to Buffy was complicated. And it was more than her being the slayer. It was Buffy. Life never went easy on the poor girl. As much as he loved her and was glad to have her back with him, he knew where she had been. He had been the first to know, the only to know for a while. And he loved her too much to be selfish. He almost wished she hadn't been brought back. But at the same time, he wasn't quite strong enough to truly want that. He had barely held on while she was dead. He wasn't sure if he could go through that again. But with the way things were going… It may happen. And sooner rather than later. And he wasn't much help to her anymore the way he acted. He liked to think he was a comfort to her before. Letting her come to him and hide from the world. And while that was still what he did, he knew it too had gone wrong. He had screwed that up like he screwed up everything else. He had failed her once more. It seemed he always would.

_And you  
Can bring me to my knees  
Again  
All the times  
That I could beg you please  
In vain  
All the times  
That I felt insecure  
For you  
And I leave  
My burdens at the door_

As he wound his way through headstones, Spike felt her presence. She was waiting for him. He almost turned and left right then. But he couldn't abandon her. Not when he was the only one she would seek out. So he opened the door.

He realized he had surprised her when he saw her jump a little. He cocked his head to the side and shut the door as he wondered what she was thinking about to have her so distracted. He hoped it wasn't a regular event. After all, a distracted slayer was a dead slayer. He didn't want that to happen. But did she?

He set down his bag and idly wondered it he'd need to open it before she left. She was running him out of his black shirts, that girl. He had needed to go out and buy more tonight or he wasn't sure he would have any left.

"Looking for me, slayer?" he questioned, teasing her with his smirk as he tried to keep things light. But it seemed she wasn't going to help him out there. She just stared. If he couldn't hear her heartbeat and see the slight movement of her chest as she breathed, he might think she was a statue.

He knew something was wrong. Something had been wrong since she had come back, but tonight was different somehow. It seemed to be getting worse. Or maybe it had always been this bad, and he had just been blind to it? Maybe she had come back wrong somehow and just found out? More wrong than him being able to hit her. Maybe something was wrong with her very soul, the very essence that made her Buffy. Whatever was wrong tonight, more wrong tonight, he knew that she was in far too much pain. No soul could bear that much pain.

_But I'm on the outside  
I'm looking in  
I can see through you  
See your true colors  
'Cause inside you're ugly  
You're ugly like me  
I can see through you  
See to the real you_

He studied her carefully with a wary expression. "You alright, pet?" he asked as he slowly approached her. He didn't want to frighten her or distress her any further.

"Seem a little off…" He stopped in front of her. What was going on in that pretty, little head? He couldn't tell. And that frightened him. He could always read her. He could see her better than she saw herself. But right now, it seemed as though she was just… empty. He had never seen her empty. He loved her for the life she always seemed to be overflowing with. But since her return from death, she had never seemed to get that back. Maybe she could fool her friends, but she couldn't fool him.

She wouldn't look at him. She tried, but then she hid. He knew why. He knew she didn't want him to see inside of her. Because now he knew. She wasn't empty. She was tortured. She was dying from the inside out. And this death was the agony her friends had wanted to save her from when they unwittingly brought her into it.

Then she kissed him.

_All the times  
That I felt like this won't end  
It's for you  
And I taste  
What I could never have  
It was from you_

He knew she just wanted to feel alive somehow. He knew she was using him. He knew that ultimately she was hurting herself more by doing this. He knew he should tell her no, that he always should have told her no, but he just couldn't do say that. There was nothing that he could possibly refuse her. And if this was what kept her alive then he'd be damned if he would take it away. He had to keep her alive now that she was here.

And that made the whole situation complicated. That damned word again. He hated that word. He knew that he couldn't deny her. He knew he needed to keep her alive. He knew that he was selfish. But he knew that telling her no would force her to begin healing. But he wasn't sure if she would or if she would simply let herself melt away into oblivion. So he kissed her back. He stepped with her into the darkness of the underground level of his home, of the crypt. Two dead people, dead in entirely different ways, but both dead nonetheless, killing each other a bit more each passing day as they attacked each other with the ferocity which only the dying can have. The total lack of fear or remorse, of caring for themselves they had when they were together that no living thing should feel was what fueled them in their frenzy.

Sounds began to fill the air. Shoes fell with clunks and thuds upon the floor. Pants slid off, and skin slapped against skin. But still, he kissed her with all he had. He kissed her with every ounce of love he could muster in his soulless being because he knew that if he didn't, she wouldn't live. Whether she knew that or not, he did.

_All the times  
That I've cried  
My intentions  
Full of pride_ (flowers to Joyce, took care of Dawn)  
_But I waste  
More time than anyone_

He always tried to help her. Anyway that he could, he tried it. He took care of Dawn, though not well enough to keep Buffy alive. He gave her what she wanted, whenever she wanted it. He let her do anything she wanted to him, because he didn't matter. She alone mattered. She was what was important here. She was always the one that was important. Nothing mattered like she mattered. And so he nipped his way up her thigh. He didn't want to make her leave. Not when this was the only escape she had, her only freedom. While he kept her in this small building, the pressures of the world remained outside the thick, stone walls. She was safe in a way. She wasn't safe from him, but she was safe from all the things she ran from. Though he wasn't sure which way she really ought to be running…

_But I'm on the outside  
And I'm looking in  
I can see through you  
See your true colors  
'Cause inside you're ugly  
You're ugly like me  
I can see through you  
See to the real you_

He knew that he should make her leave. Just pick her up and toss her outside and never let her back in. He knew he shouldn't let her do what she was doing, but he couldn't help it. She asked, and he obeyed. He only wished she would ask for what they used to have. The odd, maybe friendship they had gone through before the sex began. He knew that would really help her. But how would her get her back to it? How could he let her know what he knew she really needed without telling her and demanding things out of her like everyone else in her life? How could he take away the solace she found in being able to demand things of him, the only one she could demand things of? He couldn't. He wasn't strong enough. And he couldn't ruin her like that. He wouldn't.

_All the times  
That I've cried  
All this wasted  
It's all inside  
And I feel  
All this pain  
Stuffed it down  
It's back again_

He would do anything rather than hurt her. He would die for her if she asked. Any pain he felt was trivial, no, immaterial as long as she was a little better off for it. He would hide away anything wrong with him if she would only get better. Even in the smallest sense. If she would just talk. If she would only smile… Then he would know that things would be ok. But now? He had no idea. Not really. He only had hope. And he clung to that. Because she couldn't be like this forever. No matter what it took, he would help her. He would make certain that she would one day be able to be happy again. He had to. As he drifted out of this world with Buffy tightly and safely encased in his embrace, he knew that eventually he had to. He just **had** to.

_And I lie  
Here in bed  
All alone  
I can't mend  
But I feel  
Tomorrow will be OK_

She had left. She always left. He wished she wouldn't at times, but she always did. And he knew she always should. And once he got to that point, he wished she would never come back. But again, she always did. And he knew she always would. At least for now. As he felt her presence linger away and fade into the distance, he thought over the situation a little more, pondering the predicament he had somehow landed himself in now.

_But I'm on the outside  
And I'm looking in  
I can see through you  
See your true colors  
'Cause inside you're ugly  
You're ugly like me  
I can see through you  
See to the real you_

Buffy crept inside her window as quietly as she could. Her feet hit the floor without a sound and she slid her clothes off before crawling into bed. She felt empty, hollow. She wondered when that feeling would ever leave, if it would ever leave. The only time she managed to feel she had even partially filled the growing void inside of her was when she was with Spike. But she felt like it wasn't enough anymore.

As tears slowly rolled down the side of her face, she stared at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the world as well as herself. She wished she could hide from everything. She wished things would be easy. She wished that when she woke up, tomorrow would be ok.

--END--

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**A/N:** Not quite sure what I think of this one. I like it, but it's different from what I expected. So you guys should tell me what you think, being the impartial and unbiased readers that you are. Who says I ever beg for reviews? I never would. ;-) 


End file.
